


Taking Pains

by maharieel



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Cybernetics, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-War, burns (mentioned), just a lot of femshep and joker friendship feels tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7362145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharieel/pseuds/maharieel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even heroes have to take time to heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Pains

**Author's Note:**

> I just really adore Shepard's relationship with Joker, and I also adore angsty things, so this fic was destined to happen at some point.

Tears were an unusual sight for her.

He’d known for years now that the sight of water streaking down Shepard’s cheeks signalled something very bad: he’d only ever heard of her crying when someone died. And even if she was overwhelmingly joyous, he’d never seen her cry from laughter like Vega did when he was wasted (not that he’d ever admit to it) or let tears of relief slip out after they’d countlessly beaten the odds. Such open, pure displays of emotion just didn’t register with her, and for whatever series of events had fashioned her that way, Joker didn’t bother trying to understand. It was who Shepard was, and he’d learnt long ago that questioning her was dumb. Anyway, it wasn’t his place to care.

Or maybe it was? Years of yelling and blood and death, yet the two of them still somehow managed to crawl out alive, and not that Joker was about to admit it to her face, but he’d come to . . . appreciate her presence a great deal over those years. Not in the sappy romantic way Alenko fawned over her when he thought she wasn’t looking, but in a protective kind of manner. Despite himself, the welfare of his illustrious, somewhat abrasive and obnoxiously confident commander had always worried him. _Shit, she died because of me, of course I’m protective._ Maybe that was all there was to it: Shepard had been ripped from life once already to keep him planted in the land of the living, and only because of his own stupidity. Things like that tended to warrant protectiveness (and guilt, but they’d had that conversation already).

But the crashing of his knees to the cockpit floor as Shepard had passed out beside him was more than just protectiveness; the burning fear he’d felt in his heart as he’d watched her face down a Reaper alone through Alenko’s helmet camera was more than just guilt for past mistakes; and the way he’d barely held himself together as he’d turned the Normandy away from the Crucible was more than just a helmsman helpless to aid his commander. 

There was love in there, somewhere. Joker knew it. He’d never admit to it – _God, I’d never hear the end of it_ – but he knew, somehow, that she felt it too. Shepard was like that, always knowing things you didn’t want her knowing. In the end, though, Joker didn’t really mind. She’d done more for him in the past three-going-on-four years than he ever asked of her, and he’d done his best to repay her when he could. Whatever he thought they had, it was mutual. 

The sight of her crumpled in a wheelchair, stuck in her own silent agony as tears flowed madly from eyes that had long lost their glow, made whatever feeling he had towards her _ache._

The Normandy had been back on Earth for a few weeks now, although from what he’d heard, Shepard had been stuffed in a hospital bed for at least a month prior to their return. He’d cringed when he’d heard, only because he'd known the woman couldn’t keep her ass still for more than an hour, but upon seeing the state she had been in, any joking had slipped out of him. As if the brokenness he’d been feeling over the loss of EDI hadn’t been enough, the goddamned universe just had to shove Shepard back at him, a mess of cybernetics, burns and missing limbs _(his somewhat distant reaction had been nothing compared to Kaidan’s, though, who’d collapsed into a vomiting fit seconds after laying eyes on Noa’s broken body, whimpers overwhelming any other emotions flowing from his crewmates)._

Hobbling across the small expanse of grass to the bench Shepard was parked beside, Joker tried his best to avoid staring at the way her hospital gown curved around what remained of her left leg. He’d briefly glimpsed her medical report as Chakwas had been explaining the situation to the crew. _Severe second and third degree burns in most areas, numerous broken bones and bullet bounds, severe damage to most cybernetic implants, amputation on left leg from above the knee down, widespread bruising and severe head trauma._ And that was just a _brief_ overview. In many ways, Joker was glad they’d been absent when she’d first arrived at the hospital; not even Chakwas has been brave enough to watch _that_ security footage yet. 

By the time he was lowering himself onto the bench, careful not to crowd her, her tears had calmed down to a slight trickle. _Out of embarrassment, most likely._ As childish as it sounded, when you’d only ever cried in front of three people _(Anderson, Liara and Thane)_ , public displays of sadness tended to be awkward. Not that they were in public, so to speak: a small park area sat on the roof of the hospital, for ‘patient rehabilitation’ apparently. Joker thought it was more of a place for patients to come and break down where security cameras wouldn’t be watching.

Which, he supposed, was why Shepard was there. 

He sighed as he took in the desolate view stretched out before them. “Miranda said you were up here.”

“Figured,” she croaked between the last of her tears. 

_Don’t you dare ask if she’s alright._ “You alright?” _Piece of shit friend you are._

He glanced in her direction just long enough to notice the way she frowned over at him. _Ok, I deserved that._

She sniffled loudly and made as if to wipe at her nose with her arm, but it only made it about halfway there before dropping back to the chair arm uselessly. Joker tried to look like he hadn’t noticed as she swore at her other arm, which barely made it to the halfway mark before dropping. The tears started briefly again. “Fuck this,” she growled, snapping her eyes to the horizon. 

“Cybernetics?”

She let out another growl, although this one was closer to a sigh. “They had to deal with the stupid burns first and Miranda reckons the cybernetics in my arms _aren’t a fucking priority_. How am I supposed to function if I can’t even wipe my own nose? I can’t do anything without a nurse these days and I’m fucking sick of it! I had to be spoon fed this morning! Did you know that? Spoon fed!”

Shepard was staring at him now and he’d never seen such helplessness in her eyes before. He’d seen a whole lot of emotions pass through those green eyes, sure, but he’d never seen her look at him like _that_. Like she was . . . _pleading_ for him to do something, like he suddenly had all the answers. 

“Miranda . . .,” he started, tongue lost in his mouth. “She knows what she’s doing, Shepard. I know it fucking sucks, but she’s doing what she can, right?”

“Fuck you,” she spat, eyes not wavering from his. “Don’t act like everyone else, constantly going on about how it all gets better and to trust my doctors. I don’t need that from you. It’s bullshit, and you know it, Jeff.”

Any normal person would have been taken aback by her foul mouth, or her accusatory tone, or the way she had suddenly thrown the entirety of her situation onto his shoulders like it was his fault, but in all honesty, Joker wasn’t normal. Instead, he sat back in shock, one word dragging back and forward through his mind furiously. _Jeff_. Nearly four years, countless conversations, and not once had he ever heard his first name spill from Shepard’s mouth. It was always swear words and teasing jokes and ‘Joker this, Joker that’, but never Jeff. Not once. She seemed to realise the weight of what she’d just said seconds after he did, her eyes dropping to the half-grown grass below her and eventually falling shut with a sigh. 

Joker had known not to expect her to be good as new. It was one thing to die and suddenly just wake up like nothing had ever happened. Easy as going to sleep. But going through such agonising pain and trauma, only to have to relive it for the entirety of your waking hours as your body refused to heal . . . that wasn’t easy. Recovery wasn’t easy. Ask anyone caged within the corridors of white walls and sterilisation below them, and you’d get the same clarification every damn time: building a broken body back to whatever it’d been before was hard, and it hurt, and it was just an overall shitty experience. No matter if you were just an everyday foot soldier, or the saviour of the galaxy, it still fucking hurt.

And, obviously, it still took its toll. 

Leaving the sympathy persona behind, he went for something he knew she understood: the truth. “Fine then, Shepard. You want me to be good old Jeff, fine. I’ll be Jeff. You almost fucking died. I don’t even know how you survived the never-ending list of injuries on your medical report, but somehow you did, ok? You saved the galaxy and you lived to tell the tale. And fuck, I know it hurts. I know that, right now, your entire life sucks, I know that. I know that you hate this feeling of helplessness that you’ve got right now, I know you like being in control and being able bodied, ok? You’ve lived the majority of your life capable of physically doing anything you fucking wanted to, and shit I know it hurts having that privilege taken away.”

Shepard was watching him now, the anger seeping from of her expression with every word out of his mouth. “But you just have to suck it up,” he continued. “Sitting around here moping all day, yelling and swearing at people isn’t worth it. They’re just trying to fucking help you, Noa. For once in your goddamned life, sit back and let someone else do the hard work and for fucks sake, _stop pushing away the people who care about you.”_

Maybe he should have regretted the harsh tone of his voice, or the way her eyes once again fell on the horizon, but he didn’t. He never would. Shepard, of all people, knew that sometimes the truth was just something you had to accept. Hell, it had taken him weeks to finally accept the fact that no matter how hard everyone tried, EDI wasn’t coming back. He’d cried and swore, because everyone has to go through that at some point whether they want to or not, but he’d moved on from that. The grief still plagued him, though, and perhaps it always would. Maybe Shepard would always be plagued by the grief of her leg, or the nerve damage in her arms, or the general trauma of the whole ordeal. Or maybe she wouldn’t (this was Shepard, after all: strong, dutiful, can-get-through-anything Shepard). Nevertheless, Joker wasn’t about to sit by as she dug herself into a hole of self-pity, throwing everyone out of her life in the process. Maybe, with a lot of time and drinking, _maybe_ he could move on from EDI. But Shepard?

 _She’s my sister_ , he thought as he watched her staring at something beyond the horizon, the dying afternoon light playing across her scarred face reminding him of home. _I’ve already let Hilary down. I’m not about to add Noa to that list, too._

Shepard’s coughing brought him back to the present. “Sorry. I’m just . . . scared.”

The confession shocked him almost as much as the use of his first name had. “The heroic Commander Shepard, saviour of the galaxy and life as we know it, scared? Now _that’s_ a comforting thought.”

Finally, some semblance of the Shepard Joker knew appeared in the form of a smirk tugging at her lips. It didn’t last long, though, but he was satisfied nonetheless. “I want to put my head in my hands so fucking badly right now, but I can’t because my stupid arms won’t work, and I can’t even walk because I don’t have a leg anymore.”

“I’m sure Miranda can cook you up a fancy cybernetic one,” he said with a small smile. “If the woman can rebuild you from the dead, I don’t think it’ll be too much trouble.”

“I know,” she sighed. 

Silence hung between them for a moment, nothing but the sound of the slow and arduous reconstruction process echoing up from the ruined city below them. To be fair, it didn’t look as bad as it had in the midst of the fighting, but the site of crumbling buildings and the overbearing abundance of grey was a mood killer if he’d ever seen one.

Joker scratched at his collarbone. “Come on. Spill.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, as if he hadn’t noticed her tapping her fingers on her chair arm _(because even with fucked up cybernetics, she can still manage to do that)_. Eventually she caved under his knowing glare. “What are you gonna do now that everything’s not going to shit?”

A breath of a laugh. “I dunno. You?”

“Kaidan suggested we retire and tell anyone who wants our help with galaxy-ending crisis’s to fuck off.”

 _I highly doubt he said it so colourfully._ “Going for the white-picket-fence lifestyle, Shepard?”

“I don’t know if it’d agree with me,” she frowned. “I mean, I’ve never lived anywhere permanently, unless you count the Normandy. Can you imagine me doing the laundry and vacuuming? Or shit, having kids?”

That got a genuine laugh from him. “If that ever happens, send me a picture.”

She glared at him and he suspected that, if she could’ve, she would have thrown something at him. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not keen to go back into the military. Frankly with the leg alone I don’t think I could. But I just . . . fuck, I just want to relax, you know? Just take a fucking long-ass break somewhere warm and sunny and away from possible near-death experiences.”

Joker sighed, imagining himself laid out on a beach somewhere drinking cocktails and taking in the sun. “You do still owe me an umbrella. And a raincheck on that sushi.”

She shook her head at him, the ghost of a laugh slipping out between her chapped lips as they both privately remembered the numerous drama-filled encounters they’d had over the years. Regardless of the death and suffering and constant threat of war looming over them, it had been a good ride. But Shepard was right, she of all people definitely deserved a break. He said as much, hoping to give her scattered thoughts at least something solid to consider. 

Joker wasn’t sure how long the two of them sat there, but it was dark when the sound of the elevator door sighing open pulled him from his thoughts. Glancing behind him, he was met with Kaidan’s tired eyes as the man padded across the grass and fell down on the bench between the sorry pair. He was in his uniform, hair a tousled mess and dark smudges visible under his eyes even through the dim lighting. _He looks like absolute shit._

It was only then that Joker realised Shepard had passed out in her chair, head hanging forward and breaths much more even than they’d been hours before. Kaidan noticed too, and quickly leaned across to plant a kiss on her forehead, the action barely rousing her from her much-needed slumber. The show of affection made Joker’s heart ache for opportunities long lost, but he wasn’t selfish enough to voice it. Instead he pushed himself to his feet and materialised his stick from his omni-tool. 

Kaidan stood as well, giving Joker a sad smile that barely reached his eyes. “Thanks. For everything.”

 _From me and Shepard_ , Joker knew he meant, both of them knowing full well that she wasn’t the kind to throw words of thanks around casually. Instead of replying, Joker just gave the man opposite him a small nod before slowly making his way back to the elevator doors. 

The three of them rode the elevator together, Kaidan waving goodbye as he pushed Noa back to her room for the night. As Joker continued down a floor to the hospital entrance and, hopefully, a waiting cab, he hoped Kaidan didn’t spend the entire night flicking his eyes between Shepard, the monitor Chakwas would no doubt hook her back up to, and whatever books he had downloaded onto his omni-tool. Shepard wasn’t the only one who had earned a break.

Wandering out onto the street, Joker was waiting barely a minute before a cab arrived and drove him back to the temporary apartment he’d been given while he sorted himself out. As they drove through a cleared path in the rubble to the most unaffected section of the city, rain started to streak against the windows. The ride wasn’t long, and by the time he was slowly shuffling through the rain to the elevator, the thought of umbrella cocktails and sushi on a sunny beach somewhere - Shepard and Kaidan and whoever else wanted in on their ‘long-ass break’ beside him - sounded like the best damn idea in the galaxy.


End file.
